I don't own anything, just the idea!
The characters are Ariel ("she") and Eric ("he")
Shipwrecked
She danced entranced, and she was like a sculpture, and she wasn't a mermaid only because she didn't have fins.
The music pumped loudly, and the night was at its wildest. The air thick with smoke and vice, she swayed to the rhythm that made more sense inside her head than in real life. Whatever, she was enjoying herself like she wasn't supposed to, because she'd left home with a smile and a white lie, because she was slightly underage and because, at heart, she didn't honestly belong there. But it was thrilling, the late hour, the scent of sweat mixed with the alcoholic breaths of those who stood too close to her, everything.
She'd come with a friend of hers, but this friend had got herself busy with a one-night-dreamman, and she was now on her own, repelling sleepiness by dancing, and dancing, and dancing.
She was an unexperienced clubber, it was hard to get past Father's concern in daily matters, and late night disco escapades would take a tremendous toll on her day-to-day freedom should they ever become known to him. It was with great regret indeed that she'd lied to him the three or four times she'd said she would spend the night at a friend's (and had carried her more-than-tipsy friend back home the following morning…)
But the adrenaline rush was just too overwhelming, the scent of midnight too beckoning. She had too much fun going out, and she loved having fun. In this innocent kind of way that revolted around dancing until her feet begged her to stop, that was also kind of out of place in that antra of perdition. Oblivious to the drugs that passed around her, to the drunkards and the dirty stares and the straining overdoses on alcohol and the dullness of not having a friendly face to engage in conversation, no one to shout to over the deafening strings of unimaginative chords.
He was shipwrecked, only not literally.
He knew that it was disgusting, that he at that moment was disgusting. He could hardly keep standing, and the world just swirled around him merrily and the music beat heavily in his ears, and his being drunk and numb-tired somehow managed to enhance that all and make it tenfold torturing.
Whomever had decided that drinking away a problem actually made any sense deserved a severe punishment, he mused, as his head pounded and made him wish he'd stayed at home, stayed in bed where it was safe, warm, healthy.
It was fruitless, trying to pick himself up and keep himself safe from a storm he saw coming on the horizon. He'd hold on tight to the rocks covered with molluscs that would gash the palms of his hands if only he wasn't sinking like that…
Amidst the people that wove like gentle billows, she saw him crumble to the ground and felt a pang of something. The poor thing. Sagging in that manner, ill-starred to be trampled on by asinine dancers. And she was so idle, and his features were so hapless…
She found herself making way through the schools of people that found it annoying that she would be asking them for permission to pass, to please let her through, a person had just collapsed to the floor, hadn't they seen? Oh, whatever, let me pass please, thank you. And then she was somehow kneeling by this young man, the most stunning creature her eyes had ever witheld, and she was hoisting his arm gently over her shoulders, and carrying him as well as she knew to the benches outside the disco, and by the time she got there she suspected that perhaps, only perhaps, she was in love.
A/N: I like how it turned out- So say, should I make a continuation to it? Reviews are beyond appreciated =)